Falling

“Yes, yes, oh god, yes…”

Creaking springs, thumping headboard. Draco opened his eyes to the harsh light of a streetlamp outside his bedroom window and the sounds of Astoria having sex in the next room over. 

Again.

“Oh, Merlin, Tori, I’m-I’m coming!”

Draco sighed.

Wearily, he got ready for the day. He donned his favorite, silk dressing gown - silver to match his eyes - and then shuffled out of his room to put on a pot of tea. Their modest, two-bedroom apartment was quiet but for the sounds of Astoria and her latest obsession - Richie, of all people. The two had been inseparable since the wedding two months ago. 

London was just beginning to wake up. As Draco waited for the pot of water boil, he listened to the distant symphony of honking car horns, twittering birds, people walking along the street below.

Home away from home.

He sighed.

Once the tea was done, Draco took a cup into his room. Sounds of Astoria and Richie laughing now, talking, drifted over to him. He rolled his eyes. Taking advantage of their preoccupation with each other, he decided to take a long, relaxing shower. He even got a quick wank in, though he, unlike his roommate, knew how to keep himself quiet.

The two of them still hadn’t left her room when Draco was leaving the apartment an hour later. 

“I’m leaving, Astoria!” he said. He put on his coat. “Made some breakfast for you, it’s in the microwave if you want it later.”

“Love you!” Astoria shouted from her bedroom.

Draco smiled. 

The sky was lightening up now, blushing at the new day. Draco took this as a sign that he was running late. Finding a quiet alley two blocks away from his apartment building, he apparated.

He landed in the back of a narrow alley. It led out to Charing Cross Road, where he quickly took a left. A few blocks down, he hurried into a small coffee shop named the “Steamy Cup”. The lights were still off on the inside, but he spotted his coworker behind the bar, carefully placing the pastries into the display.

“You’re late,” she said.

Draco grimaced. “I know,” he said. “Sorry.”

Olivia shrugged. She was a petite girl with short, platinum blond hair, which she dyed periodically in a wide array of colors. Today, it was pink with green tips, like a watermelon. 

Astoria had gone on a couple dates with the girl, slept with her, then never called back. At the time, it had fallen on Draco to tell his coworker that Astoria was, unfortunately, no longer interested.

Olivia didn’t particularly like him. The feelings were mutual.

They prepared the shop in silence, then let in the first customers of the day. When Draco first started at the shop several months ago, he had always dreaded the morning rush, the barrage of lattes, espressos, and cold brews. He still wasn’t sure why, but muggles seemed to be obsessed with the stuff. Now, however, he and Olivia worked in tandem, like clockwork. The shift went by in a quick blur.

Before he knew it, Olivia was clocking out and picking up her coat from the bench behind the bar. The weather had gotten much cooler lately as muggle London prepared itself for the winter season. At least it wasn’t raining. 

She waved goodbye to Draco. He was staying for a double shift, as always.

“See you later,” she said.

“See you.”

In that moment, however, it struck the both of them that today was Draco’s last day at the shop. Olivia bit her lip, looking off to the side. 

“It’s, uh, been nice,” she said.

“Yeah.” Draco tried to smile. “Same to you.”

“Right.” 

Draco thought it the end of their stilted conversation, so he turned back to the bar, returning to work. He would have to close by himself, again, since their shop was consistently understaffed. He felt a small twinge of guilt, again, for leaving. 

“So,” Olivia said. Draco looked back at her, eyebrow raised. She took a deep breath. “Astoria. Does she ever mention me?”

Draco’s smile faltered. He played with a rag in his hands, wiping a spot on the bar that had already been wiped clean.

“No,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Right.” Olivia shook her head, as if clearing it. She took another, quick breath. “Could you give her a message for me, then?”

Draco grimaced. He let go of the rag to face her. 

“Sure,” he said. “What is it?”

The look in Olivia’s light, hazel eyes was somehow familiar. He had only a split second to register it before she slapped him across the face.

Merlin, he hated muggles.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, they smacked you in the face for something your roommate did. And sometimes, they walked across the coffee shop, asked what’d you do to deserve that?, sat down with you at the bar, held easy conversation with you for the rest of your miserable shift, asked you out for dinner, took you to his place, and let you make all the noise you wanted there because, unlike you, he lived alone.

In the morning, Oscar made breakfast. 

“I hope you like scrambled eggs,” he said. “Because that’s all I really know how to make.”

Draco hovered by the bedroom.

“Sounds lovely,” he said. “But I’ve got to go. I’m already running late.”

“Oh.” Oscar’s eyes lingered sadly on the two plates he’d already set out on his rickety dining table. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“If you’d like.”

Draco found his shoes and grabbed his coat. Oscar trailed behind him as he made his way to the entrance.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said.

At the doorway, Draco mustered up a smile. He really didn’t have time for this. “I’ll call,” he said.

“Sure you will.”

Draco laughed a little. He didn’t even own a phone. For a moment, he took in the sight of the half-naked man before him again, his blue eyes, his wonky, broken nose, his short, black hair - just long enough to pull at. Feeling bold, he swooped in for one, last kiss.

“Bye, love,” he said.

A few blocks away, his coat in his arms and the feel of Oscar’s kiss still on his lips, Draco closed his eyes, thought of his destination, and apparated.